


talk so pretty (but your heart got teeth)

by loveandwarandmagick



Series: vixen! neil [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, POV Andrew Minyard, Vixen Neil Josten, it's not as fun as the last work, more feelings >:), not very graphic though, references to Neil's past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwarandmagick/pseuds/loveandwarandmagick
Summary: Neil and Andrew navigate their "this" while having absolutely no time to spare. Andrew, taking a page out of Neil's book, has to do some running before he settles down where he needs to be.The one where they barely have any free time, Neil is performing in Columbia for Valentines and wants Andrew there, and Andrew is panicking about it all.
Relationships: Katelyn & Andrew Minyard, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: vixen! neil [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972759
Comments: 16
Kudos: 245





	talk so pretty (but your heart got teeth)

**Author's Note:**

> not very good my friends. mostly unedited, bc school and life has left me with barely any time, and i am rather stuck in a writing rut as of late. will be trying to write more though, i promise y'all that
> 
> enjoy , stay safe, n' i appreciate every single one of y'all <3

When Andrew sees Neil in the Exy gym, practicing his routine in what looks like a skirt, he blames the fact that he didn’t put his contacts in for making his vision act up. That, and he’s running on less than four hours of sleep, and three cups of coffee. He deduces it as an (admittedly, very welcome) hallucination.

But he can't pretend that he’s seeing things when Neil finishes climbing the bleachers, barely out of breath despite jogging up so quickly. This close, Andrew can see that it’s  _ definitely  _ a skirt - a vibrant white fabric that makes his eyes hurt with how they contrast on Neil’s tan skin.

Andrew feels ridiculous for being more out of breath than Neil, despite not having moved at all.

“Look what I have to wear for the stupid Valentine’s performance,” Neil mutters, looping his arms around Andrew’s neck and leaning in to give him a sound kiss on the lips. He pauses just before he touches, always so cautious, letting Andrew lean in the rest of the way. 

He hums against Neil’s mouth, thankful for the excuse to close his eyes for a few moments, and Neil pulls away with a hum of his own, eyes glossy and bright with exhaustion. 

“You stayed up, didn’t you? I told you to go to sleep early.” 

Andrew glares, though it’s ineffective, if Neil’s short laugh says anything. His fondness is enveloped in exhaustion, but the sight of his weary happiness makes Andrew’s heart clench painfully in his chest.

“You stayed up as late as I did,” Andrew reminds him, tugging Neil down to sit between his legs. His hands wander into Neil’s hair, tugging at the wavy strands to sort out the tangles and soothe him into closing his eyes for a moment. 

“You’re the one who kept me out late,” he mumbles, no accusation in his quiet voice. Still, a stab of guilt goes through Andrew as he closes his eyes, digging his fingers further into the mess of waves.

They’d  _ both _ stayed up late, out in the Maserati until the early hours of the morning. Neil had been talking about the cheer team and classes; Andrew listening and offering occasional commentary or complaints. After a while of silence, Neil clambered into Andrew’s lap, eager and clumsy, and talking had been abandoned in favor of being as close as they could get.

It’s been their routine since the start of January, as Neil gets ready for upcoming championships, and Andrew gets ready for the winter season. There’s hardly any time to talk anymore, between cheerleading and exy, and ever since the team found out about them, they’ve been incessant in figuring them out, in favor of winning their bets. 

So Andrew takes what he can get: Neil between his legs, head resting on his lap at an awkward angle. Both of them are too tired to make much conversation, and practice starts in a few minutes anyway. 

“Why are they making you wear a skirt?” he asks finally, and Neil presses his head further into Andrew’s strong fingers.

“Uniformity,” he mutters back. “Or something.” He brings a hand up to Andrew’s knee and starts tracing shapes mindlessly. Andrew tries not to squirm at the attention. The sound of the locker room doors jolts him a bit, and Neil stills.

Andrew tries not to sigh when he pulls away, but the sound escapes his mouth before he can hold it back. Neil smiles small, but it falls flat under his tiredness. His body wilts forward, curved in Andrew’s direction, and Andrew pretends it doesn’t ignite something in his chest to notice that he’s doing it too - falling into each other’s space again and again. 

“Later, okay? We’ll take a nap,” he says, and Andrew nods tiredly as Neil leans down for a goodbye kiss. 

Andrew isn’t sure when he got this comfortable with their casual intimacy - if it’s just something that Neil elicits, or something that he’d grow to be comfortable with eventually, with anyone. But when Neil pulls back, tired smile turning his whole face soft, Andrew can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else. Nothing has ever been this good - nothing that he’s ever been able to keep. Neil salutes him goodbye from the bottom of the stairs just as the Exy team files in.

“Laps,” Wymack calls out, and Andrew stifles a groan as he heads down the stairs. 

-

“I’m going to write a book called  _ A Series of Interruptions _ ,” Neil says, when he gets into the Maserati later. 

“Tell me about it over here,” Andrew mutters, and Neil smiles like he can’t help it, swinging his leg over the gear shift and piling into Andrew’s lap. He tenses for a moment against Neil’s weight trapping him in the seat, then slowly relaxes each of his muscles, while Neil waits patiently. It should be unbearable, the feeling of being pushed down, trapped. But Neil, as strong as he is, is easy to lift, if need be. The smell of his detergent - the cheap, school issued one for the Vixen uniforms - is enough for Andrew to relax into his seat. 

Then, for a moment they’re both still, watching each other.  _ Gauging isn’t the right word _ , Andrew thinks, as he admires the pretty features of Neil’s face. His gaze drops to study the lines of Neil’s tired eyes, dark circles shadowing and making the blue of his irises look dimmer than usual. Slowly, he leans in for a kiss, and Neil shifts forward appreciatively, eager already.

After a long moment, Andrew has to force himself to pull back. 

“Take a nap,” he says, pushing Neil’s head down onto his shoulder. Neil’s so tired that he doesn’t even resist the press, though he does press a kiss to Andrew’s neck when he shifts closer. Andrew can feel his smile along the line of his jaw and he shivers, squeezing Neil’s hips in warning. 

“Are you tired?” Neil asks, shifting closer still. Andrew nods, and Neil hums, tucking his face into Andrew’s neck again. 

There’s sunlight spilling into the car, illuminating Neil’s auburn hair in front of his face, and that’s when Andrew realizes their mistake. It’s not like him, not like either of them, to fall asleep in such an open area, let alone tangled up the way they are. 

Neil shifts against him, and mumbles something unintelligible. Andrew rolls his eyes but can’t help the wedge of fondness in his chest at his sleep-heavy tone. Finally, Neil lifts his head, staring down at Andrew with his eyes half closed. 

“Mornin’,” he says simply. Andrew’s heart beats furiously at the tone of his voice; the sight of Neil’s eyes caught in a beam of sunlight elicits a fierce response in his chest. He hopes that Neil can’t see the smudge of his unwelcome blush, but the smug look on his face dashes his hopes. The sunlight washes away all the traces of exhaustion, coloring over the dark smudges under his eyes like they were never there in the first place. Andrew’s so busy marvelling that he almost forgets where they are, and the vulnerable position they’re in. 

Neil, always reading Andrew before he can figure it out himself, moves carefully, arranging himself back in the passenger seat and smoothing out his clothes. 

“Practice right?” he asks, and Andrew nods, irrationally scraped by annoyance every time they have to part. 

“We can make plans soon,” Neil says, words spilling out of him like he can’t help it. “The finals contest is in Columbia on Valentine’s, why don’t we head out there? You don’t have to come watch, but I’m rooming alone, since they know I’m big on privacy. I can sneak you into my hotel room?” 

He’s much too hopeful for the chance, purely earnest as he scans Andrew’s face for approval. Underneath it all, there’s a tinge of nervousness, reluctance that overshadows his easy nature. When they’d first started this thing, labelling it as a  _ thing _ , Neil was unsure of most of it. That same uncertainty comes out when he pushes for something, like he’s not sure of how much Andrew is willing to give. 

As if he could ever say no to the chance to spend time together. Being away from Neil opens a wound Andrew didn’t realize he had, one that aches each time he’s gone and thinks of Neil. 

“I’ll have to check the game schedule,” Andrew says, and Neil’s face smoothes out into something less worried when he nods. Andrew reaches over to grab Neil’s hand, waiting for the beam of a smile he always gets for it.

And just like he thought, Neil smiles as he whispers, “Okay.” 

Andrew doesn’t quite grin back, but it’s a near thing, as Neil kisses his knuckles and steps out of the car, already jogging back to his dorm to get ready for class. 

Practice is grueling as usual, monotonous and giving Andrew too much time to think. He stands in goal, stopping ball after ball, helpless to the way his mind sways to Neil, always. The idea that they’re trying something, something  _ new _ , is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. 

Andrew hated the first part of it, all the uncertainty and fear of it. Still does, when they don’t always line up, or when there’s a barrier in understanding. But Neil makes it all bearable, all the inescapable bad, and all the overwhelming good.

Someone takes a shot on goal and rebounds the ball off of Andrew’s helmet, but he can’t bring himself to care when his mind is on Columbia. The thought of being alone with Neil, when they’ve barely had more than a few hours together in so long, is bliss. 

Except, before he’s able to leave practice to tell Neil that it’s a yes, Nicky pulls him and Aaron aside, brandishing tickets. 

“Look who has  _ great  _ seating to the Vixens cheer contest coming up,” he crows, and Andrew glances over at Aaron to catch his gaze. Aaron asks a silent question with his eyes, and Andrew responds. It’s something like:

_ You want to go see your cheerleader right? _

_ They’re both cheerleaders, idiot.  _

Andrew hopes that his flat tone is conveyed properly, but gauging by the hopeful look on Aaron’s face, he fails to express his lack of enthusiasm. Aaron and Nicky would probably stay at the house, unless Aaron is bunking in the hotel with Katelyn. The thought makes Andrew shudder, so he immediately clears it. 

“I think we’d have to drive back that same day,” Nicky continues, drawing Andrew from his effort to blacken his thoughts. “I mean there’s the house, but I have an exam the next day. I really don’t want to get up at like four in the morning to make it back in time.” 

Aaron turns to look at Andrew again, and there’s another exchange while Nicky looks at them expectantly.

_ Are we staying at the house,  _ Aaron asks, not moving his mouth.

Andrew arches an eyebrow, but otherwise keeps his face blank. 

Nicky waves a hand in front of Aaron’s face and gets batted away, and then Andrew turns to him to reply. 

“You can take an Uber back. We’ll stay in the house.” Nicky’s face lights up and he waves the tickets happily, already rattling off the plan as Andrew’s mind spins. 

He’s hoping that Aaron’s petulant defiance means he’ll sneak Katelyn into the house, and Andrew will end up in the hotel with Neil, as far from everyone that they can get. His hope is further confirmed when Aaron nods and pulls his phone from his pocket, already typing something as he walks away. 

Andrew nods at Nicky and follows. He checks the calendar on his phone to note that it’s two weeks from now, trying to figure out the best time to tell Neil about the tickets.  _ Later _ , he thinks as he walks to class. He’s really starting to despise how frequently that word appears in his vocabulary, especially in terms of Neil. 

-

_ “A Series of Interruptions,” is a very fitting title for their relationship _ , Andrew thinks, when Neil’s roommates breeze in while they’re making up for lost time in his dorm. They freeze in the doorway, as Neil moves smoothly away from Andrew’s wandering hands. He doesn’t like being embarrassed - and  _ isn’t  _ usually - but the way he’d been sprawled all over Neil before they burst in feels too vulnerable. 

Andrew stands and meets their gaze head on, annoyed and hot all over. 

“Heyyy Neil,” Marissa giggles, and Andrew grits his teeth as Neil huffs out a weak laugh, sitting up stiffly. 

“We can go,” Katelyn offers, looking very steadily at the floor. Andrew is at once, thankful and annoyed by her consideration for their privacy. Neil glances back at Andrew and he shakes his head tightly, so Neil looks back at them and shakes his head. 

He tilts his head towards the door, and Andrew follows, glancing back at Katelyn only once. Her smile is strained, but there nonetheless. Andrew doesn’t return it as he shuts the door behind him. 

“Maserati?” Neil asks, hopeful again. He’s worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, and Andrew’s so drawn in by his reaction that he almost steps forward to kiss him right there, interruptions be damned. 

“You have class,” he replies flatly, forcing the tone so he doesn’t sound too disappointed. Neil can see right through him, though. It’s something he should know by now, probably, but forgetting makes it infinitely more pleasing when Neil reminds him. 

“After then,” he persists, and Andrew makes a vague noise, cutting off when Neil steps into his space. 

“You have practice,” Andrew reminds, “and so do I.” 

Neil huffs. “Tomorrow?” 

Andrew pauses for a moment, mentally checking his schedule and nodding when he finds no interruptions. Neil nods back and leans down for a kiss. 

Andrew rolls his eyes, stepping closer so they’re chest to chest. He murmurs, “Class,” against Neil’s mouth, then kisses him anyway. 

“Tomorrow,” Neil repeats, and Andrew nods again, biting back a smile at the look on Neil’s face.

“Go to class, Junkie.”

Neil nods over and over, a giddy, grinning imitation of a bobblehead, and Andrew’s chest fills at the sight. He doesn’t turn until Neil is gone from sight, and then he goes back to his own dorm to drown out the shakiness of the feeling with nicotine. 

The next day, Neil’s class is cancelled, but he gets stuck at early practice teaching choreography to a few other freshman recruits. They catch up in between late practices, for a few too-short moments. The day after that, Nicky texts Andrew about an emergency as he’s going to meet Neil by the gym, and he ends up breaking several traffic laws to get Nicky to a store that sells a calculator before his class lab.

The week passes with nothing more than a few stolen kisses, and if Andrew’s dreams are any indication of how he feels, he misses Neil more than he thought. They’ll text sometimes, but neither of them have any inclination towards using their phones, and Andrew prefers being able to see Neil when he’s talking anyway. Messages do nothing to capture his attitude, the way he rolls his eyes like punctuation, and the quirk of his mouth when he thinks of something particularly cruel to say. 

On Monday of Valentine’s week, Andrew has training practice with the Trojans, who came to Palmetto for a formal introduction. On Tuesday, Neil ends up having to rewrite a piece of the routine when one of their girls is injured. When Andrew finally gets the chance to ask Neil about going to the competition, Neil passes out within minutes of lying down in the backseat of the car. 

Nicky asks if he’s mentioned that they’ll be watching the performance yet, and Andrew doesn’t know what to say. He  _ hasn’t _ . He’s not really sure that Neil would want it to be a surprise either - the last thing that Andrew wants to do is throw him off. The longer he waits, the sicker he feels at the thought of going at all. 

Then, the day before Valentine’s Day, Neil finally catches on. They’ve gotten a single moment to themselves - Andrew finally managed to kick everyone out of his dorm for the night, and Neil came up as soon as he was done with practice. When they’re laying in Andrew’s bed, Neil finally speaks up. 

“You’ve been quiet,” he says, and Andrew tries hard not to react to the suspicion in Neil’s tone. When Neil shifts closer, with his head on Andrew’s chest, he knows he’s been caught. 

“And your heart is beating really fast.” Neil lifts his head to meet Andrew’s eyes, squinting slightly down at him. Andrew’s just thankful that he can’t hear his heart anymore. 

“You talk enough for the both of us.” 

Neil nods slowly, but Andrew can tell that he doesn’t quite believe it. He prepares to be agitated, for Neil to push him further and demand an honest answer, but he goes silent instead and leans back on Andrew’s chest. 

Instantly, Andrew feels ashamed for assuming the worst, when he knows that Neil would never force himself over his boundaries. It’s one of the first things that Andrew noticed about him. 

He doesn’t want to sit in silence though, leaving Neil to stew in the possibility of it being his fault, so after a moment, he asks about the skirt again, just to make conversation. Neil’s eyes flash,  _ something  _ mischievous sparking in them, but he still sounds unsure about it. Andrew lets him talk plenty, lulled by Neil’s voice.

“It’s not like it’s  _ bad _ . I just don’t see why I have to. If it’s for uniformity, shouldn’t everyone else just wear shorts?” 

Andrew hums, frowning. “You’re the minority. They’d all have to buy shorts if they matched you.” He doesn’t say that the idea of Neil performing in a skirt makes his mind wander to less innocent places, but from the grin on Neil’s face, he must assume so already. 

“I think we have extra tickets,” he mumbles hopefully, leaning in for a kiss, which Andrew gives easily. He thought he’d be tired of the closeness after a while, all the casual intimacy that they've built up between them, but he finds himself wanting more, leaning closer all the time. 

Andrew has the chance to tell him now about the tickets that Nicky got, about his plan for Columbia, but before he can, his feelings catch up to his thoughts, overrunning them in seconds. The spike of fear he’d felt just under his calmness suddenly creeps up again, turning all his soft thoughts into vibrant, screaming bruises.

The thought is as terrifying as it is liberating, knowing that Neil is choosing to be here, but can just as easily choose to not be. Andrew swallows down the dizzying feeling of being afraid, trying to calm his breathing when Neil sighs against his chest. 

“I’ll see,” Andrew assures, deciding then not to tell. That way, he can pull back if he needs to. After all, he’d be doing the homework that Bee assigned to him: not compromising his boundaries if something was too much to handle. 

But Neil  _ is _ too much. He’ll always feel slightly too unreal, too much like a good dream to be held down and something that Andrew can keep.  _ No _ , he thinks, as Neil starts talking about something else.  _ The difference is that he’s holding me down, too.  _

Andrew shuts his eyes and buries his face in Neil’s soft hair, stroking mindless circles over his shoulder to soothe his fragile state of mind. 

-

The next day, they wake up together when Neil’s alarm goes off at four a.m. The bus leaves in an hour, so Neil presses a series of drowsy kisses to Andrew’s face, finishing off at his mouth, and then pulls away to jog back to his dorm.

Andrew tries to ignore his heated face and the way his heart is racing, feeling Neil’s absence acutely. He stays in bed for a few minutes afterward to trace his mouth and reflect. He could stay here in his bed, thinking of Neil. He could get up and schedule an emergency session with Bee, then go to Columbia like he’d planned. 

The latter option is scarier, but the idea of seeing Bee is a balm that he desperately wants right now, even if she’d say it’s something he could work out on his own. 

Once the appointment is made, he sets off for the car, rolling out of bed with an effort he didn’t think he needed before. 

-

“It comes down to this,” Bee says, a half hour later. The cup of hot chocolate she’s been nursing is still hot, steam flowing out over the lip of the mug every time she speaks. “Do you  _ want _ to go? And if you don’t, why is that?”

Which is what Andrew expected her to say. The thing is, he doesn’t know the exact reason for his wariness, an unscratchable itch he can’t be rid of, under his skin. He mutters, “Is it fine if I don’t know?”   
Which makes Bee laugh, and lightens some of the weight on Andrew’s shoulders. He supposes it’s easier to be unsure when he has corroboration.

“Don’t you? It’s okay if you don’t, but be sure that you don’t know. Surely, it’d be easier to solve the problem if you acknowledged it.” 

The word  _ acknowledged  _ instead of  _ recognized _ . Which means she figures he knows and is just repressing it. Which isn’t entirely off, but they’re running out of time and the truth feels raw in his throat. 

“Do you think that maybe,” she says, “you’re afraid, Andrew?” 

He hums, giving no answer. He dislikes the concept of being scared in this case, the idea that fear and Neil can coexist, when Neil has never done a single thing to harm him.

He tells Bee this. She listens, and the minutes tick down. 

“Well,” she says, just as her timer goes off. She wears a watch that vibrates to let her know when sessions end, so patients aren’t overwhelmed with a shrill sound. It’s one of the first things that caught Andrew’s eye when they had their first session. 

“Would you like me to tell you what I think it is?” 

“Don’t you think I know already?” 

Bee smiles. “I do. But if you won’t say it, should I?” 

“I’m afraid,” he says simply, and her smile cracks a bit at the edges, professionalism wavering. 

“I think you’re afraid to get closer to him, because you don’t want to lose him. You’re afraid to surprise him, because you’re scared that he’ll be upset by it and push you away.” 

Andrew wonders, not for the first time, how she manages to read him so well when the only other person who’s been able to is Neil. He wonders if they have anything in commo and then breaks the line of thought when he realizes he’s comparing his therapist to his boyfriend

The word itself is a heavy presence on his shoulders, but it means more than  _ something _ . 

“Agree?” she asks, and Andrew nods tightly while she stands to open the door. 

“My advice? Talk to him about it. You’re not bad at communicating, Andrew, but the results aren’t always desirable for you.” 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, striding out the door without a single look in her direction. It’s something he was prepared to hear - something simple, that he already knows well - but that doesn’t make it any easier to listen to. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, though. 

He slams his car door a little too hard, and has a foot on the gas before he even knows where he’s going. 

A gas station shows up on the horizon after a while of aimless driving, taking sharp turns and letting his thoughts be cut off by the motion of the car. The attendant is silent, watching Andrew with amused eyes when he dumps a fistful of candy on the countertop. 

“The hot chocolate as well?” she asks. He looks down at the cup in his hand, pointedly ignoring the tremor in his fingers as he nods. 

“5.68,” she says, and he hands over six dollars, collecting his things and turning away without a second glance.    
Chocolate doesn’t do anything to stop him from driving, or to steady his racing thoughts, but the taste keeps him from veering too far into his head. And it’s fucking good. 

Eventually though, his phone starts to buzz. Calls from Nicky pouring in. A text from Aaron asking if he needs his class covered (though he’s likely only asking to collect the favor, so he can sneak away with Katelyn later). And finally, the reason he turns the car around at all - a single text from Neil, with a picture attached. 

He opens it at a red light, and turns back to campus when he clicks open the photo. It’s Neil in the mirror with Katelyn at his side. His face is set in a frown, hand tucked into a fold of his skirt with Katelyn’s holding the phone. 

Andrew drags his eyes down to the caption, huffing quietly at Neil’s commentary, before he replies, “It doesn’t look bad.” 

The response comes a moment later, a blushing emoji with the words  _ you like it, then _ ?

Andrew shuts his phone off and bites his tongue as he traces the circular pattern of his thoughts. 

_ Neil would never hurt me _ , he thinks, and doubt swallows reason instantly. Still, he keeps driving, soothing his imagination with the memory of every instance in which Neil’s respected Andrew’s boundaries. The gentleness of his hands, the question in his eyes and on his tongue, in every moment that it matters.

Andrew keeps driving and tells his thoughts to shut up, not Bee’s advice, but something that’s worked for too long for him to change it.) 

Everyone’s already in the dorm by the time he gets back. Aaron looks up at him from the beanbag by the window, and Nicky follows his gaze away from the television. His face looks tired and lined with worry, a common sight when Andrew disappears to be alone. Still, he can’t help but feel the tug of guilt in his chest, as familiar and easy to brush away as dust motes in the sunlight. 

“You’re good?” Nicky asks, and Andrew nods stiffly, eyes trailing the waning sunlight as it drifts in through the window. 

Aaron doesn’t look away from the window when he asks, “Still good for tonight?” 

Andrew nods, regardless of where his brother’s attention is, and Nicky perks up instantly. He pulls the tickets from his pocket and Andrew turns towards the door.

“Five minutes to get ready. Or I leave without you two.” 

Aaron scowls and says something that Andrew doesn’t catch, but Nicky scrambles up to run to his room, throwing off his shirt frantically as he goes. 

And then they’re off, driving towards Columbia at a speed only bolstered by the second text Neil sends him. 

_ Do you believe in luck _ ?

He wonders if he’ll get there soon enough that he can answer in person. 

_ Good luck _ , he replies shortly, and Neil’s new message chimes as Nicky chastises him for using his phone, so he glances at the screen and puts it away.

-

“Katelyn said they’re going on in a bit, but right now they’re in the waiting area,” Nicky says, glancing up at Aaron and Andrew. “If you wanted to say hi, and all.” 

Aaron narrows his eyes at Nicky, and Andrew narrowly resists the urge to clamp a hand over his mouth before he speaks. “Why are you texting her?” 

“Calm down Captain Masculine, I’m gay, remember? She can text whoever she wants.” 

“God, would you s-” 

“Stop,” Andrew says coldly, and Aaron clamps his mouth shut with a pained expression. Nicky looks down at his feet, his smile too sharp to be anything but fragile. He points to the sign leading to the waiting area and Andrew starts for it, ignoring Aaron and acknowledging Nicky with a last glance before he walks away. 

Andrew can admit: it probably wasn’t his best idea to come through here without knowing where everyone is. He nearly knifes a clumsy cheerleader when she stumbles into him (he might’ve, if he had his knives on him.) Instead, he sidesteps her quickly, returning the glare of her teammate when she drops to the floor. 

“Andrew?” 

His face shapes into a deeper scowl without his permission at the sound of the familiar voice. 

He turns to face Katelyn, her face more curious than happy to see Andrew. Their antagonism isn’t mutual, but she’s not exactly eager to win Andrew’s approval. 

He wonders if she knows that it makes Andrew like her just a little more. 

“Neil’s over there.” She tilts her head towards the exit, and he raises an eyebrow in question. 

Finally, her expression folds, giving way to something like worry - lip between her teeth, hand coming up restlessly. “He’s nervous,” she admits, “I haven’t seen him like this in a while, honestly. Did he know you were coming?” 

He shakes his head no, feeling his heart clench at the idea that Neil is stressed, that same painful tug that he gets whenever Neil’s eyes go distant.    
“Oh. He’s probably used to you being in the crowd, then,” she frowns, unaware of how it makes the feeling creep up even further on Andrew, a shadow of guilt that he’s entirely uncomfortable with.   
“We have time before we go on,” she adds, “if you want to go say hi.” 

Andrew hears the double meaning in her words, the silent pleading that says she needs him to be alright as much as Andrew wants him to be. He nods, stepping out towards the door. 

Neil is lying on the floor, eyes closed and palms pressed flat against the concrete. 

At the sound of the door shutting, his eyelids flutter open, and Andrew is caught off guard by the sky reflecting in his irises, the way his eyes have become an unending mirror of blue. 

Neil scrambles up, blinking too fast like he’s not sure of what he’s seeing. 

“Andrew?” 

“Junkie.”

And finally, he stands, a grin spreads across his face. His smile is wide enough to rival the expanse of horizon behind him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.” 

Andrew shrugs. “You didn’t tell me you were losing your mind.” 

Neil has the decency to look embarrassed that Andrew knows, at least. 

“There would’ve been no point,” he argues, but even then, his relief hangs palpably in the air between them. Andrew stares until Neil folds, moving to stand closer, so they’re nearly nose to nose. 

Andrew keeps his gaze on Neil’s nose so he doesn’t have to look up at him. 

“You should have told me,” Andrew says, and Neil scoffs. Andrew feels the breath against his face, catching the scent of mint and apple. 

“No point,” Neil repeats, and Andrew catches his hand when it comes up between them, slotting their fingers together easily. If he looks up at Neil then, it’s only for a moment to catch the blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“You smell like you drank a gallon of that tea,” Andrew says, and Neil flushes harder. 

“I was nervous. There was still no reason for you to know, or to have to come if you were busy.” He waves his hand again, stubborn, and Andrew brings it to his mouth in a flash so he can speak his next words into Neil’s knuckles, the same way Neil did to him all those months ago. 

_ Has it really been months?  _

“Well I’m here anyway.”

After a beat of silence, Neil huffs out a laugh, then, “You found me anyway.” His eyes sparkle and Andrew resists the urge to groan. 

“I fucking hate you,” he replies, pulling away halfheartedly. Neil hums, leaning in close enough for Andrew to close the gap, and he does. And like always, it feels unbearably right, this closeness that can’t be matched to anything else. Andrew thinks, pathetically, that it feels like home. Or what home  _ should _ feel like - the closest thing he’s ever gotten to one. 

He decides that one kiss is enough, and Neil pulls away with understanding flickering over his features. Just as he’s about to say something, Katelyn comes out with a knowing look at them, and Neil pulls away. 

“Four,” she says, before disappearing without a second glance. Neil nods and looks back at Andrew, looking much less rumpled than he did at the start. 

“If you’re staying after the contest,” Neil starts, chewing on his lower lip until a dot of blood appears under the indent of his teeth. Andrew wipes it away with his thumb, gripping Neil’s chin between his fingers. 

“If you still want that, it’s a yes.”

And when Neil grins, brighter than the sun and the stars combined, Andrew wonders how he ever could have doubted this decision. The chance to spend more time with him is something that’s eluded them all week, and now is the best chance. It’s just  _ yes _ , and deep down, Andrew knows that it always has been. 

“Yes,” Andrew says again, just to see Neil’s face splinter under his own sentiment, soft and ridiculous. 

“Right,” Neil says, pulling back. “I’ll see you inside?” 

Andrew just nods, and Neil grins harder as he disappears through the door. Andrew, finally alone and appeased, lets himself smile, testing the unfamiliar curve of his mouth. It settles on his face and he finds himself having to cover it in his hand when it doesn’t immediately dissipate. The gut-wrenching feelings inside him are settled suddenly, and he heads inside after another long breath.

-

Being inside  _ definitely  _ wipes the smile off his face. Surrounded by hordes of girls (and a few guys), Andrew’s quick to forget about his momentary bliss of earlier. The promise of seeing Neil again, bright against the backdrop of duller people, makes it worth it though. 

He finds Nicky and Aaron in the same spot that they were before, still as tense as earlier, but something breaks when they catch sight of Andrew again. Tension melts out of Nicky’s shoulders, and Aaron leans back into a slight slouch. Andrew’s not sure that either of them knew they were doing it before. 

“Find him?” Nicky asks in a single breath, and Andrew nods, gesturing towards the audience area. They follow behind him, clearly relieved at the direction given. 

Andrew’s taken aback by how dark it is inside. There’s a main stage area on the gym floor, covered in a black tarp full of shoe scuff marks. Lights only on the floor area, where there’s another group about to go on. It isn’t the Vixens, which means that Andrew has absolutely no interest (he really only cares about seeing Neil, confident and strong and beautiful.)

He leads them to their seats in the near-front, taking the aisle and immediately propping his feet on the back of someone’s chair. And then it’s a matter of waiting, something Andrew’s gotten accustomed to in the past few weeks. The thought of the hotel is an easy distraction for Andrew to sink into, after he’s spent so much time chasing out all the fear. It’ll just be Neil, never asking for more than Andrew can give, infinitely pleased with every moment.  _ And he cares _ , his mind supplies unbidden. He waves off the thought, if only so the reminder won’t make him smile again. 

He’s so caught up that he’s almost surprised when the Vixens come out, a few of them waving upwards and the rest focused on getting into positions. He spots Neil among them, darting inconspicuously behind a taller girl, and snorts quietly into his hand at the frantic way he moves, already focused single mindedly. 

When the music starts, it occurs to Andrew that this is one routine that Neil never got to show him. 

It’s a fast paced song from the start, something that sounds heavy and dark, with a steady beat. Andrew is immediately wound in, everything from the flash of white clothes under heavy lights to the forms across the floor. His eyes drink in everything, but from the second he sees Neil, he can’t focus on a single other thing. He shines out clearer than any of the rest of them, a gem among rubble. It’s unfortunate how beautiful he is, strong and flexible, outdoing every single girl on the floor with him. Andrew watches him hold someone’s ankle as they flip, then gets atop his own pyramid of girls to do a twist up in the air. His stomach drops at the sight, and if he doesn’t breathe in again until Neil lands safely on the floor, nobody has to know. 

He barely even notices when the song ends, too drawn in by the sight of Neil leaning over on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him in a last pose. He doesn’t dare shrink into himself, not even when the audience starts clapping or the dim overhead lights come on over the crowd. Andrew watches as he stands, graceful like he’s still performing, and exits the room alongside Katelyn. 

It’s then that he blinks back to life, and notices Nicky’s phone out. 

“I’m sending the video to the Foxes,” he explains. “And I got pictures to show you guys later.” 

Andrew glances at Aaron, expecting a comment, but one look down at Aaron’s phone reveals a slew of emoji heart eyes. 

Ridiculous. He pointedly forgets that Neil sent him heart emojis just the other night. And that he’s (sarcastically) sent them back. 

Neil may mean everything to Andrew, but he refuses to convey his feelings through emoticons. 

His train of thought continues on this track as they shuffle out of their seats, Nicky leading the group and doing his best to clear a path through the hordes of people. By the time they get outside, it’s less crowded - just a few people are left lingering among different teams. 

And there’s Neil, standing at the edge of the room with Katelyn and some other freshman that Andrew’s never bothered to learn the name of. It’s inevitable that Neil sees him - he never stops looking around the room unless he’s with Andrew - and when he does, his grin breaks free. 

He says, “Hey,” when Andrew gets close enough to hear, voice lit up with poorly concealed emotion. Andrew can’t help but glance at Katelyn to gauge her reaction, expecting some surprise or something, but her face is serene and perfectly blank. 

“We have to wait for results still,” Neil explains, face scrunching up. “But it’ll only take a bit. Coach said you can take the bus back with us if you want.” 

Andrew nods, taken in by everything Neil, wanting to get as close as possible. This close, he looks radiant beneath the lights, all vibrant colors and soft expression. 

Andrew’s breathless, and awfully unembarrassed by it. 

“What did you think?” Neil asks after a long moment. He smiles like he knows already that it was good, and Andrew shoves his palm against Neil’s face in an effort to clear that expression. 

“You already know it was great,” he grumbles, and Neil huffs out a laugh against Andrew’s palm. 

“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing Andrew’s hand and intertwining their fingers. Katelyn’s made herself scarce, Andrew notices, so he has no qualms about leaning further into Neil’s space, backing them up into a corner for a moment of privacy. Neil’s face is bright, sparking with trouble, so he presses a chaste kiss to his mouth to keep him from being too bold. 

“We’re in public,” Andrew reminds, and Neil huffs through a nod. 

“Yes, unfortunately. Haven’t caught a break recently.” 

Just when Andrew leans in again, there’s a crackle over a loudspeaker, making both he and Neil flinch into each other - Neil, with his arm immediately going up, Andrew digging under his armbands uselessly for absent knives. 

_ “Will the performing teams in section 3BAC please report to the gym for awarding.”  _

“Us,” Neil explains, grabbing Andrew’s hands in his own. “If you want to wait outside, I’ll text you when we’re out?” 

Andrew thinks about the crowds of people, probably all flooding the entrance trying to get back. The thought sours his confidence, too many people all at once, not enough room to get through. But then he checks in again and sees Neil’s face - a dream in real life - and he pushes off the wall to get through, Neil at his side. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice dropping down quietly once they come out into a group of people again. “You’re amazing.” 

“You talk too much,” Andrew mutters, tugging Neil along by his wrist. 

They get themselves situated easily, parting at the door while Neil joins his team and Andrew slides into his seat across from Aaron and Nicky. Nicky offers him a weak smile, Aaron, barely a glance. 

Andrew, ever adamant that regret is pointless, can’t bring himself to be close to it, as he watches the smile break across Neil’s face when he spots him in the crowd. 

-

“You’re going to get us caught,” Andrew whispers, voice strained under Neil’s incessant attention against his neck. He hums quietly as they shift in bed, and Neil leans away, mouth glossy with spit. It’d be disgusting if Andrew wasn’t so attracted to him. 

“I know how to be quiet,” Neil huffs, and Andrew raises an eyebrow just to see him fluster under the double meaning of his words. 

“My mom and I,” he explains quickly. “Being quiet was important.” 

Andrew watches Neil deflate just the tiniest bit, and brings a hand up to his face. 

“You’re here now,” he offers, the closest thing to comfort that he can get. “I am here, and I am never letting anything happen to you again.” 

Neil leans into his hand, blinking down at him for a moment before his eyes flutter closed and he sighs, melting into his touch. 

The space that they’re in feels untouchable - all dim blue light from the sinking sun, the soft smell of cotton, Neil piling into Andrew’s space in the best way possible. 

Andrew stares up at Neil, and thinks,  _ lucky. _

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are appreciated as always ! if you'd like to reach out to me for anything, i will try to be more available.
> 
> thank you lovelies, your support means the world to me <3


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